The Canadian Writers' Collective

Writing, and writerly tangents

Saturday, January 19, 2008

Do you See What I See?, or, Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

I see three possibilities here.

1)Those spiral florescent bulbs are to balding men what stripes are to largish women. These new bulbs (they aren’t considered bulbs, are they?) - These screw in florescent spirals… their light is harsh, brighter and whiter than Edison’s bulb, whose light dulls the edges, those cobwebs up in the corners of the ceiling visible only in the daylight. Are the older, less efficient bulbs kinder? Where they kinder? Not really. They left terrible shadows under the eyes once we’d reached thirty-nine and a half empty already on the dip stick of our life span. Our teeth were yellower - indeed, because there was yellow in that light, the yellowish glow of forty candles. Clipping nose hairs was impossible because the cavernous spaces were always in shadow no matter how you pointed your face, twisted and pinched your nose. They were quick to light up though, quicker than these new spirals, which mysteriously enough, cannot stand being dimmed. It kills them. It’s like putting a wild bird in a cage. It’ll die. The nature of this new light source is simple: to illuminate all the pores and blemishes on your face; to seek out all idiot hairs, especially the ones growing like zebra grass out of your ears; to cast a glaring light onto your head, past your toupette and onto your scalp. It’s a harsh light they’re selling, all in the name of energy conservation. Do I look like a polar bear?

2) When you use a PC, you don’t usually hang over the keyboard. With a laptop, that can’t be helped really. I keep my elbows out so I don’t inadvertently press down on the touch pad area. This brings my body forward, my face over the keypad, the screen leaning back as if I have bad breath. So every hour or so, I find I have to pluck one of my hairs out from between the K and the L, or the W and the S. It’s getting ridiculous. I could stuff a pillow with all the hairs I’m finding imbedded in the keypad. I’ve asked everyone I know if it looks like I’m balding in the front. “You can see my scalp through the hairs. Look!” I say. Someone said it was the winter months and only normal. “You’re shedding!”

3) All is good, really. No reason for me to be alarmed. I’m getting older, but at a gentle pace. I was break dancing with my kids the other day, and I managed three complete revolutions on my back, my legs up in the air like a dead cockroach. “Ha!” I said, finger-pointing like I was pow-powing with a cap gun. “I win! I win!” I simply got nervous about my hair falling out because the conditions were all there for a perfect storm. We’ve recently converted to florescent spirals, and I only last year began using a laptop, or should I say: a shedded hair catcher. Ha!

What?

Psst, psst, psst.

Ah, come on!

Psst! Psst!

(sigh)


4) My hair’s thinning, I’ve just been told by a little voice, only I had too much hair before to notice. In a couple years time, apparently… I'll be unmistakably balding.


(That is harsh!)

3 Comments:

Blogger Tricia Dower said...

Bald men are sexy at any age. Love 'the screen leaning back as if I have bad breath.'

Sat Jan 19, 06:45:00 pm GMT-5  
Blogger T. Lee said...

You know, these harsh Canadian winters are really hard on the skin, the hair, and the psyche...

Mon Jan 21, 03:44:00 am GMT-5  
Blogger Steve Gajadhar said...

I feel your pain Tony! I started thinning at 25. The secret is in the hairdo, push some, or mess it.

And you can usually turn off the touchpad on laptops. Try it, or you're going to end up with some weird flared elbow syndrome.

Tue Jan 22, 06:34:00 pm GMT-5  

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